


Side One: Harmony

by robotfvckers



Series: Genyatta Strawpoll Prompts [3]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Bondage, Dirty Talk, Healing Sex, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Oni Genji Shimada, Penis In Vagina Sex, Robot Sex, Sanzang Zenyatta, monster cock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-12-20 14:12:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11922585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robotfvckers/pseuds/robotfvckers
Summary: It is not rare for Zenyatta to draw a demon’s gaze. It is rare that he indulges it.





	Side One: Harmony

****He locks eyes with the demon from across the village square.

It lasts only an instant, and it is the weight of the stare that draws his attention, the intent of it as palpable as hands stroking along his chassis.

Such interest is not unknown to him; he was created thin and tall, dressed in fine attire that denotes his status. There are some that thought him handsome, perhaps wasted in his position of inferred dogma and chastity. Though the one who stares at him now is no normal passerby.

In that singular moment, Zenyatta senses the aura of a great, _hungry_ beast.

“Is something the matter, Zenyatta?” Reinhardt whispers, though it is as loud as a normal speaking voice.

The sights and sounds of the village filter back into his awareness, and he smiles at his large disciple.

“Nothing of import. I have the feeling we will be entertaining a guest quite soon.”

Reinhardt tilts his head and smiles; he is used to the eccentric way his master speaks, an omnic of riddles, scripture, and occasional, clever puns. There is no reason to worry if Zenyatta is not.

* * *

The demon is cunning, though that does not save him. He waits until Zenyatta is alone, slips undetected past Reinhardt and Mako who are stationed outside the temple doors.

“You are quite daring.” Zenyatta hums as he stands over the demon. The demon growls, muffled, beneath the mask, lines of omnic energy binding him to the ancient tiles where Zenyatta calligraphed the spell hours prior.

“This will not hold me. Not for long.” The voice beneath the mask is deep and rumbling, arrogant still, even as the spell holds.

“Oh? You seem very certain of this.”

Zenyatta circles him in slow, even steps, surveying the creature he had only seen at the corner of his eye since that day in the crowd, a spectre haunting his every step. The demon’s muscles strain and twist, his body a thing of stark angles and glaring reds. _Danger. Stay back._

“Do you wish to kill me?”

“You would make a fine feast. I will have your flesh by night’s end.”

His fans pick up, noticeable only to himself. Zenyatta kneels at the demon’s side, and the demon stills.

“So you did not wish to wed.” The monk reaches out, synthetic fingers tracing the edges of the demon’s mask.

He removes it, though the demon struggles. A human’s face greets him, scarred and fine. Only his eyes betray his true nature, glittering and red, and the tips of his incisors as he postures, growl vibrating deep in his chest.

“A pity. You are quite lovely.” Zenyatta sighs.

The demon’s lips slacken, eyebrows shooting into his hairline. Zenyatta cannot keep the grin from his face as the demon reddens.

“And humble too. I would not have guessed.”

The grimace returns, though the demon’s face grows flusher still.

“Do not patronize me, monk.”

“I only speak the truth.” Zenyatta says, catching the demon’s chin in his long fingers, ignoring the way the demon glowers. “I am Zenyatta. What should I call you?”

The demon scoffs with a practiced roll of his eyes. “I do not see why I should introduce myself to my next meal.”

His disdain falters when Zenyatta slides his thumb over the round swell of the demon’s lower lip, admiring the way it divots beneath the pad of his thumb.

“I should like to know the name of the one who will devour me.” Zenyatta watches as the demon’s eyes grow round with surprise, a soft little huff escaping his half parted lips. “Or perhaps I would like the name of the one I am to devour.”

The demon yanks his head to the side, and Zenyatta lets him, chuckling as the tips of his pointed ears grow dark with embarrassment. Those alluring eyes stare at him sidelong, distrust radiating like an aura.

“What kind of monk are you?” The demon mutters, somehow unable to look away from Zenyatta for more than a few moments, curiosity obvious in the way his gaze lingers.

“One that is open to compromise.” Zenyatta murmurs, urging the demon to look at him fully with a gentle press against his chin. He considers the demon as his gaze flickers around Zenyatta’s face, searching for another trick he thinks the monk hides. “I will touch you, and you will feed from me in return.”

The demon considers with tapered brow, frown deepening into something close to a pout. It makes him look young though he is well into adulthood.

Then he sighs, worries his lip with those too-sharp teeth, and tells Zenyatta his name.

* * *

He does not release Genji, nor does the demon ask for freedom, not when Zenyatta steps out of his pants and parts his robes, exposing slender, synthetic thighs. He settles on the demon’s chest, releasing his modesty panel with a gentle sigh. His segmented cock slowly slides out, flickering online, and he takes it in hand, staring at Genji’s face as he teases himself.

The demon stares in turn, the hunger that he felt at first sight intensified, heady, stoking his desire. The monk bites his lip, fans speeding, and Genji grins, proud and sure when he shouldn’t be.

Zenyatta enjoys his cockiness and his fluster as he taps the tip of his cock against those full lips. Again Genji goes still, and if Zenyatta opens himself to it, he can feel the discord warring within him, pride and hunger in endless struggle.

“Do you wish to stop?” Zenyatta laughs, not unkind, as he drags his cock along those pursed lips, a bead of teal smearing across Genji’s pout. “Maybe you would prefer something softer?”

His paneling slides back fully, exposing his valve, already grown warm with want. He gives Zenyatta no time to choose; Genji opens his mouth, long tongue presented, lashing against the underside of Zenyatta’s cock.

He cannot stop his chirrup, and the sound widens Genji’s mouth: a sneer, a smile. Zenyatta presses forward with a huff, settling the head of his cock into the soft, warm wetness of his captive.

“Perhaps you require a lesson in humility.”

Zenyatta rocks his hips in small, little stutters, the metal of his body heating, valve growing slick, dripping onto Genji’s chin, the scarf at his throat, as he finds rhythm. He bites his lip, remembers how long it has been since he had last allowed himself this, and it shows by how eagerly he grows to full hardness, how swollen he already feels, the need to be filled, to take, startling.

And Genji does nothing to stymie those desires, posturing, yes, but his dark lashes draw low, face tight in concentration, eyes glazed with lust. He strains to meet Zenyatta’s thrusts with his mouth, trying to force the monk deeper, sucking noises wet and loud in his aural receptors.

He wants to keep going, wants to let himself fall into the deluge, into the ardor of the demon beneath him who presents in blacks and bloods, but Zenyatta senses something more beneath the surface: a whisper of green. The monk knows not what it means, but the needy, satisfied look Genji wears draws his pleasure short.

He withdraws with an obscene pop and Genji chases, gasping before growing flustered. Ribbons of spit and slick connect Zenyatta’s cock and that skillful, swollen mouth.

Warm light swallows the room, and when their vision returns Zenyatta’s transcendent hands smear the slick and spit, spreading it over the demon’s lips and chin. Genji’s awe lasts until the hands descend, palming him through his clothes, pinching his chest, his biceps, between his hips.

Zenyatta hesitates, grasps along the man’s cock that’s trapped against his thigh. Genji stares, nearly unseeing, breathing labored as Zenyatta tugs his pants down just enough to expose him.

He is large and hot in the omnic’s palm, thicker than a human’s would be, _ridged_ where a human’s would not. Zenyatta doesn’t know what face he makes, only that he is struck with the fantasy of it inside him, squeezing his valve around each bump, quaking as he takes inch after inch, struggling where it bulges in the middle before finally having it inside him and still having more to take.

“You are impressed.” The demon murmurs, and he thrusts once into the channel of Zenyatta’s hand with pure, wicked amusement.

“You will learn your words more carefully.” The monk chides as two of his glowing hands descend upon him, working the cock that he cannot fully encircle between thumb and fingers.

The demon growls low, rumbling so deep in his chest Zenyatta picks up the vibrations. Genji tucks his face into his shoulder, eyelashes fluttering.

“Were you thinking of forcing such a crude thing inside a man of faith?” Zenyatta catches his palm over the crown of his cock, smearing the generous pearl of slick formed there. “How vulgar.”

Genji groans as Zenyatta strokes him with hard, mean twists, unable to resist the feeling of those ridges against his hands. One spectral hand grasps his own cock, working himself in greedy pulls as he touches Genji in time. He holds him down, tugs off his armor, revealing more of him, needing to see him. The demon twists, struggles, moans, but he is helpless: Zenyatta’s breathing grows labored as skin and synthetics both meet his hungry gaze, scar tissue and freckles and delicate red cables.

“W-why...Is this not enough…” Genji whimpers, eyes sealed shut even as he jerks into the monk’s hands with what little motion he can manage, trapped as he is.

“I will have all of you.” Zenyatta leans forward, mouthing at the demon’s neck, biting the seam where skin becomes metal, and Genji groans so brokenly, shocked little bursts of need that make his heart ache to hear. “It is a wonder that you cover yourself when you have such a form. You would need not find your pleasures in tempting helpless monks.”

Genji laughs once, incredulous.

“You...helpless?” He moans quickly after, another transcendent hand tracing the swell of his balls, cupping them in a soft, warm palm.

“Truly. I am quite bewitched by you.” Zenyatta chirps as he slips low, dragging his cock against Genji’s, the strange texture of it sending delightful shocks through his body. “I wonder…” Zenyatta gasps. “If I should find my pleasure against your thigh. Leave you wanting and aching. Would you moan and cry for the next hapless visitor of this holy place?”

Genji moans, his aura a near visible thing, licks of green radiating against his chassis, making the bands of omnic energy waver for a few, harrowing seconds before they solidify once more. His cock leaks copiously now, slicker than omnic or human, viscous and thick that lets Zenyatta’s smaller cock glide like hot silk against it.

“Would you beg for them to touch you? Or would my name spill from your lips?”

He stutters forward, groaning hard and low, halting his words as his valve slides across the length of his cock, hot and so obscenely wet it forces thought from his mind. Genji’s voice pitches high, mindless, grinding his cock against him in stilted, harried cants of his hips, unable to do more.

“Please—let me…”

Zenyatta laughs, hard and a bit crazed. “So polite when it suits you.” Though he is losing control himself, rutting against this demon’s cock, grown close just from grinding upon it.

He raises his hips, grasps Genji's cock with his hands, teasing the tip of that leaking, monstrous thing against his valve, working a single harsh gasp from his own voice box.

“Let it not be said I am cruel.”

Zenyatta sinks his teeth into his lower lip as the pressure grows beneath him, hole widening, recalibrating, slow, too slowly, groan ripped from his synth as the demon’s cock breaches him. He wonders for an instant if he overestimated himself, too eager to feel that cock inside him, but he is too far gone to care, squirming upon it, sinking inch by inch, each ridge catching against his sensors, overloading them, the demon grown thicker the more he takes. Fresh pumps of pre slicken his insides, urging him quicker still.

Genji grows maddened beneath him, jaw locked tight, swears and pleas trapped behind rows of white, pointed teeth, looking seconds from breeding Zenyatta with everything he has. The omnic energy flickers, bonds weakening as the demon strengthens, drinking upon his lust.

Genji surges as the bonds snap, sinking deeper, forcing the thickened middle of his cock into Zenyatta with a quick, harsh thrust that nearly usurps him. For an instant, the power tips in his favor, but only for an instant. Six golden hands descend upon his arms, his hips, press against his throat, pinning him even as Zenyatta groans and sinks deeper, clenching dangerously around him.

What humanity the demon possesses is lost now that he is near free and has his hips settled snug and tight against the monk’s. Zenyatta trembles, fucking down in small, grinding thrusts, unwilling to let Genji away from him, not when his cock finds his deepest sensors, butting against places none have touched before. He wonders for a brief, distant moment what would happen if he let the demon go, let him flip them as Genji wished. Would he take him on his back in this sacred place? Force him to his stomach and couple him like a beast, leave him swollen and sated on these ancient tiles?

The thought loosens his hands as it quickens his hips, the wet, hurried slaps of their bodies meeting ringing loud in the temple. Perhaps his disciples could hear them carry on, grunting and moaning like base things.

Claws at his hips startle him, but they do little more than lift his body up just a little higher, drag him onto his cock that much faster. The whispering chartreuse swirls around his golden aura, and Zenyatta clasps his hands on top of Genji’s, finally dropping his gaze to the demon’s beneath him.

No longer red hot, but bright, vibrant green stares back at him, and he falters, tosses his head back as his body draws taut.

The first, true, scalding pump of seed overloads him, and he crashes, bending double as he comes. He feels things in waves, the demon’s hands nearly buckling the struts at his waist as he fucks into him, finding his own end, groaning and lost. His cock throbbing and coating the demon’s half-naked chest, spend glistening on heaving flesh and hot metal both. The warm rush of power as green and gold merge, something warm and pure answering the kiss of the Iris that rushes through them.

He strokes Genji’s cheek with trembling metal fingers as he shakily swivels his hips, brushes away the tears spilling from those wide, green eyes.

“Z-Zenyatta.” He whispers, razed, awed, throat bulging with a trapped groan as another wave of pleasure rips through him.

“Yes. I am here.”  The monk smiles and kisses the tear tracks, unable to witness such an expression on the dragon spirit’s face.

“I am here.”


End file.
